


You're My Nation (Indefinite Leave To Remain)

by coloursflyaway



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Love Confessions, M/M, Misunderstandings, Platonic Sex, Self Confidence Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-08 13:18:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4306554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coloursflyaway/pseuds/coloursflyaway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Eggsy regularly fuck after missions, but Eggsy always leaves before the morning.<br/>Until Harry shows him that he doesn't have to anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're My Nation (Indefinite Leave To Remain)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [npw](https://archiveofourown.org/users/npw/gifts).



It’s loud outside, the rain drumming on the windows from outside; Harry has always liked nights like this. They make him forget that a world exists outside of his own home, drown out all gunshots and knife wounds and bomb explosions with their thunder, the darkness that is just occasionally sliced apart by lightening.  
Any other night like this he would spend on his comfortable arm chair, the eyepatch that has become his constant companion discarded, a glass of whiskey in his hand, but this night, he is watching Eggsy leave.

His own skin is still shining with sweat, his mind fuzzy and warm with the last hints of afterglow, and Harry knows he should get up, but he can’t bring himself to.

They have started this thing between them months ago, in a drunken night after a mission Eggsy had mastered especially well, clinging to each other, kissing, touching, coming apart at the seams. It hadn’t been mind- blowing sex, because they were both drunk one wine and whiskey, because it was past two in the morning, but it had felt so good anyway, so right.  
Harry had meant to make breakfast the next morning, sit Eggsy down and talk, find new rules and rights for their changed relationship, but instead he woke just past six to the sight of Eggsy pulling on his clothes almost hastily. And that had been an answer to all the questions Harry wanted to ask, too.

He hadn’t thought that it would happen again, and yet they had ended up in Harry’s bed after every other of Eggsy’s missions, sometimes drunk, sometimes sober. It didn’t matter in the end, and Harry had enjoyed every minute they spent together, every touch, every kiss.  
If Eggsy still left after his heart had stopped beating too hard and too fast, that was a price he was more than willing to pay.

It still hurt. Of course it did, Harry’s feelings were no secret, they were shining out of his eyes with every look, spilling from his lips with every breath, every word, every moan, surely Eggsy had seen them. Heard them. Ignored them.

And it hurts now too, but it has happened often enough that Harry knows how to hide it, brushing the feelings away to deal with later. It is slightly harder today, though, because Eggsy came back from the mission half-torn to shreds, visibly shaken, downed the first whiskey and kissed Harry like a dying man, clutching at his shirt, fumbling to get it open.  
Harry had kissed him back with just the same amount of desperation, because Eggsy had been almost half-torn to shreds back in that factory in Malta, and he had almost lost him.

This time it had been mind-blowing sex, mind-blowing and exhausting, and Harry still feels how tired his limbs are when he pushes himself up on his elbows. Eggsy is already half-dressed, his shirt buttoned, his tie hanging loosely around his neck; where the boy’s trousers ended up, Harry can’t remember.  
Most likely somewhere between here and the kitchen.

What Harry knows, though, is the locations of at least one of Eggsy’s cufflinks, because it’s digging into his hip. He retrieves it, holds it out for the other to take.  
“Eggsy?”  
Since the other got out of bed, he hasn’t looked at Harry, but he does so now, and his eyes are dull and exhausted; without thinking, Harry sits up straight, leans towards Eggsy. The cufflink drops to the floor.  
“Are you alright? Eggsy, what’s wrong?” He sounds disgustingly worried, even to himself, but that cannot be happy, when he is, indeed, disgustingly worried.

“Yeah, sure, ‘s just…” Eggsy doesn’t finish the sentence, lets his voice taper off until silence stretches between them; if it’s uncomfortable, Harry can’t say, because he is too focussed on Eggsy, who seems to be fighting for words. Or maybe fighting for what, for how much to say.  
“Can I stay?”

Eggsy says the words in the quietest voice Harry has ever heard him use, unsure and hesitant, as if he expected to be laughed at any second. But Harry doesn’t laugh.  
He doesn’t even move for a moment, doesn’t even breathe, then says, “Yes. Of course.”  
The smile that lights up Eggsy’s face is like nothing Harry has ever seen, in all the fifty-five years he has lived on this Earth, in all the countries he has been – it’s not carefree, but relieved, not perfectly happy, but like this is still more than he ever expected to get.

“Thanks”, Eggsy mutters, doesn’t take the shirt off, but just slips under the covers next to Harry. He doesn’t touch him, though, just snuggles into the pillows like Harry thinks a child would after a nightmare.  
It’s a strange thing, and Harry lets himself drop back on the mattress, considers his actions for a moment before he reaches out, brushes a strand of blonde hair from Eggsy’s forehead. He doesn’t quite know what the explanation for the boy’s strange behaviour might be, but he’s got an idea, a suspicion.  
Which is confirmed a moment, when Eggsy looks up at him, surprise widening his eyes, making them shine.

“You do know that you could have stayed every time”, Harry states a fact, but it’s almost, so close to a question; he knows the answer although he doesn’t like it.  
“What?” It takes Eggsy a moment too long to blurt the word out, sounding confused, almost like he expected Harry to be making fun of him. And oh, Harry should have said something.  
Should have known that Eggsy wouldn’t expect having affection bestowed upon him without having the words spelt out, one by one.

“You could have stayed, Eggsy. Always.” Harry lets his finger travel down over the other’s cheek, over his jaw. He’s beautiful, and Harry is afraid he might have almost broken him without knowing.  
“That first night, I didn’t expect you to leave. In fact, I had planned on cooking you breakfast in the morning, having a bit of a talk before we went to work.”  
Eggsy’s brow is still furrowed and Harry doesn’t like it at all, but there is a hint of understanding in the boy’s eyes, like he’s beginning to believe what Harry is trying to tell him.

Harry’s fingertip wanders down Eggsy’s jaw, then slides up to his lips, tracing them with a feather-light touch. They’re still slightly pink from kissing, and Harry smiles when the boy sucks in a sharp breath, darts his tongue out to taste.  
“Do you want me to say it?”, Harry asks, and Eggsy nods; Harry’s fingertip catches on his lips.  
He isn’t sure if he is glad that Eggsy is making him say the words out loud or not, but he does it anyway, takes a deep breath. Says, “I love you.”

The change isn’t immediate, in fact it’s slower than Harry predicted, but then Eggsy’s eyes go star-bright, his lips parted but not speaking.  
A moment passes, then another, and Harry doesn’t know when he last said these words and meant them. But he means them now, with every fibre of his body, every cell, every electric pulse his neurons fire.  
Loving Eggsy has become as easy as breathing.

“Ya do?”, Eggsy mutters right against his finger, and Harry nods, watches the smile bloom on the other’s lips. “That’s good. ‘Cause I love ya too.”  
By now, Harry knew, but that doesn’t change the impact the words have, how they make him feel lighter than air, make his heart swell to the point where he cannot breathe anymore.

“Then maybe we can postpone that breakfast to tomorrow morning?”  
“Sounds good t’ me.” Eggsy is still smiling, presses a kiss to Harry’s fingertip, before he shifts closer, kisses his lips.  
They have kissed a hundred times at least, but this feels different still; this is soft and unsure, jubilant with the curl of Eggsy’s lips against his. It’s the kind of kiss Harry knows he will remember for the rest of his life.

It ends, but in a dozen other kisses, some pressed on his lips, some on his cheeks, his jaw, one on the tip of his nose – it makes Eggsy blush and Harry chuckle – before Eggsy lays down again, this time where he belongs. His face pressed against Harry’s shoulder, one of his hands splayed on his chest, Harry’s arm around him, keeping him close.  
“Can’t believe that took so long when it didn’t hafta”, Eggsy mumbles against his skin, sounding happy and tired and in love; Harry feels the same. “We’ll make up for all that time, though, won’t we?”  
Harry has given so many promises in his time, but this is the one he makes with the least amount of hesitation, the least amount of doubt. “Yes. Of course we will.”

**Author's Note:**

> In case you want to say hi, send me a prompt, or tell me something nice, you can find me on Tumblr here:  
> [X](http://www.coloursflyaway.tumblr.com)


End file.
